Trapped In A Loveless World
by Agent Glitch
Summary: You left me alone to fend for myself, Spencer. No, it wasn't your fault; I understand that. But I can't stop blaming you, because you left me. You couldn't come back to me anyway, or could you? It's only the beginning. The world is cruel and loveless. It'll show you love and care until the day it turns on you. [Slash M/M, ectofeature]
1. Chapter 1

**t.r.a.p.p.e.d «» i.n «» a «» l.o.v.e.l.e.s.s «» w.o.r.l.d**

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His dim silhouette melted into the darkness, and the shadows swallowed him whole. Then thunder roared overhead, and bright white lightning framed the sky. For a moment, I could see his faint, lithe figure, an outlined black structure against the ball of light. He turned back to look at me, and that was the last time I ever saw his eyes.

Oh, those enigmatic, greenstone eyes. Orbs that were naught but a way for me to see what he truly felt like. By staring into them I could understand what he was thinking of. They were capable of displaying regret and anguish; happiness and joy; hope and will; despair and sadness. Emotions that were too painful to admit, such as grief, were too shown in the emeralds. Sometimes I could sense tingling ecstasy rush though me when we shared eye contact.

And little did I know that never again would I experience such an emotional ride.

Everything changed that night. In a storm that was seemingly triggered by the tension in my heart, I soared above the merciless clouds raining down on me. Searching for him, with phantoms of my own imagination creating schemes of dread and fury. For my mind was thinking ahead of me, sending me warnings of the unknown. Images flashed behind my eyes; predictions of what he might have been enduring at that very moment. A second would pass by with me wondering, was he okay? I pictured him with broken bones, torn cloth, and scraped skin. Then I tried to calm myself down. Surely he wasn't that hurt.

Sadly, I was wrong. My optimism, for the first time in years, failed me. He had been far from okay. In fact, doubt had been spread, as he stood, with the chance to cross the forbidden border itself. The border between Life and Death. No one could tell whether he would be safe that night. As I watched helplessly, he was carried away from the grim scene, away to take him into intense care.

While he was being healed, I stood among the wreckage and chaos he had left behind. A circle of destruction, where all that I could see was what had to be remnants of the crash of the century. Standing there, all alone, with the wind tugging at my short-trimmed hair, the only thing I could do was pray, and beg for mercy to be kissed upon his forehead. He had done nothing to deserve all this. I wanted him back, in the cradle of my arms, the only sound in existence being the calm breaths escaping his lips. Back in time, when I had been able to touch him, hold him close, and perhaps even nibble his ear, softly whispering words that were meaningless to others, but were the keys to our hearts.

If only there had been some way to bring him back. Why was it so easy to lose someone? My heart was becoming prey to those who enjoyed torturing. I had been left with nothing to say, making it so hard to digest the words I couldn't believe.

Taking all this in was nearly impossible. If he was going to leave me alone to rot in this world, well, let it be. I was a lost soul, not a healer. I couldn't cast a spell to bind the sinews of his heart together, not could I stitch his wounds of the past, nor could I merely resurrect him. I was helpless, even though I had strength and power, I was weak without him by my side.

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_The sunlight streamed though the windows of Spencer Wright's room, rousing the fourteen-year-old boy awake. The filmmaker stirred, and licked his lips while slowly blinking his eyes. The blurry mix slowly focused and he could make out the familiar sight of his room._

_Something, however, was missing. And yet Spencer couldn't recall what it was. Sleepiness pulled at his shoulders, and his body was telling him that he needed extra rest. Finally, he gave in and slowly dropped down to his bed. He felt so exhausted, even though he had only stayed up for about half an hour later than usual. Normally, he could endure for much, much longer. Shrugging, he savored the feeling of fleece blankets draped over his torso and a warm pillow supporting his head. All else could be tended to later, he thought lazily._

_His blissful dozing, for the fifth time that month, was again disturbed by none other than his friend, the ghost of former singer, Billy Joe Cobra. Now able to hear Billy's words, Spencer groaned, rolling over. He grabbed a pillow and dug his head under it, hoping that it would sufficiently block out all the noise. Unfortunately, his experiment wasn't all that successful. _

_After a short while of debating, Spencer realized that today was a special day indeed; he and his classmates were going on a camping trip. It was, truly, a rare treat for the students, considering the school circumstances, and of course their principal, of whom Spencer would rather leave his name omitted. The teen had to admit his dislike to his high school, but to enjoy a day out in the sun or under the trees, maybe there wouldn't be so much complaining to put up with. _

_Preparing for the day went by like a breeze. With help from his companion, Spencer managed to have his extra clothes, equipment, and gadgets all crammed in one bag. Spencer also felt thankful that his sister wasn't in the way for once. He was having a good day, with anticipation lifting his spirits up to the sky. If he were any more lucky, today would he memorable as great. _

_Ready to leave, he mouthed a quick goodbye to both his parents. Apparently, he would still have to make it to school before they could go. So with a smile on his face and a positive hum resonating in his throat, Spencer confidently made his way towards school. It was like nothing could tear his cheery mood apart._

_Arriving early at the school gates, he nearly bumped into his friend Rajeev. "Hey, Spence, Billy," greeted the student, acknowledging both the boy and his ghostly form of company. Spencer mouthed his own hello before together, they made their was to class, awaiting the trip._

_Waiting had been something that Spencer rarely did, but now, he sighed and couldn't stop staring at the clock. He was mentally sending messages for the clock hands to move faster. Fortunately, the wait was over and he and his friends could move on._

_The cars used for the trip were lined up already, and once the groups were divided around the class, they would choose a car and get going. Lucky enough to be paired up with Rajeev, along with a few other students, Spencer was now ready. They mounted one car, with Spencer sitting in the front seat. Billy, unsurprisungly, tagged along, but instead of staying close, he soared, enjoying the day._

_A smooth start was laid out before them, but Spencer didn't know what else was waiting for him. He began to feel like an ominous cloud was hanging over his head, sending omens to him. Trying to ignore the strange feeling, he concentrated upon staring out the window. Not even Billy noticed the grim look on his face. _

_Billy's roundabout was interrupted by the sound of thunder. He looked up and noticed jagged lightning tear the sky into a thousand pieces, almost like shattered glass. And that was when it all began. The rain poured, spilling from roofs and changing the sunny day into a dull, bleary noon._

_Faint skidding noises made Spencer look around. And so as time seemingly slowed down, a huge car came into sight, ramming into Spencer's side of his own vehicle at top speed. _

_The force of the crash was enough for Spencer to notice the snapping sound of bones before he blacked out._

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Tears.

Liquid diamond tears. Oh, many of those were shed on this grievous night. Tears of emotional pain, and I was not the only one to cry. An entire group of people were here with me to mourn him. His family and friends, comrades, and even acquaintances. But I was still his closest friend, wasn't I? Regret dragged at my heart, which was no longer a vital organ of living, but a place to lock up my feelings and thoughts. He was lost to the world. Would I ever see him again, in another life, in another dimension, would our hearts meet?

Because even now, I had no idea whether he'd turn out to be like me or not. I missed him as a young prodigy always looking out for fun, or even trouble. I wanted him back, but with an amulet of Death now clasped around his thin neck, was that even possible? A similar situation as mine, but would his soul be lifted and held aloft, much like mine?

If he was gone forever, I would be trapped in a loveless world.

**Author's Note: This was originally a one-shot, but I'm definitely continuing something like this. As you can see, my writing style here isn't too different from the one in Mystified. I will not name any character in Billy's point of view, and I'm pretty sure you know who the 'he' is that BJC has been referring to. When told in third person, you can see that I try to lean over to Spencer and focus on his feelings and emotions. **

**This wasn't really based off anything; I merely felt bored and this came out. And, of course, this will evolve into ectofeature; who doesn't love a little slash? **

**Review if you liked, thanks in advance.**


	2. Chapter 2

**t.r.a.p.p.e.d «» i.n «» a «» l.o.v.e.l.e.s.s «» w.o.r.l.d**

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If only my echoes could reach him. For all I knew, I was screaming his name, repeating and rolling the word around in my head. It was the only thing that could keep me sane at the moment. I wasn't sure if it was possible for a soul to endure all this. I was yelling, pouring all my despair and frustration into the soundless howl of the night. I wasn't prepared for all this.

All I knew was that I was breaking apart. My very existence was now scarred, and I was sure that a crack had appeared on the surface of the glass that sustained my life. My love for him was like a rose; if only I had paid more attention to the thorns. Now my hands were bleeding freely, for those thorns were apparently more lethal than what the eye could see. And perhaps, the rose stem had been layered with poison, for I could feel a wild desire spread through my veins.

December's snow and July's searing heat, when clashed together, created an unimaginable mayhem. With my grief and madness mixed together, I could not tell what I was truly feeling. Perhaps I was losing control of myself. I did not know what was wrong with me anymore. If my consciousness was leashed, it would be pulling at me until I lost my grip on reality.

Blue light met my eyes. I didn't know what was happening. I must have been hallucinating, because I had seen him. With my very eyes, I had seen him, safe and sound. And he spoke my name, his voice soft as silk, a tender look in his eyes. He was like my angel guardian, with the sun itself behind his back. He told me to get up and come with him. But before I had the time to grab his outstretched hand, he disappeared.

That was when I learned to accept reality.

He was gone. Forever, perhaps, and maybe I would never get the chance to see him again. I loved everything about him. I wanted to bury my face in that soft brown hair, hugging him closely, making sure that we would never again be apart. Because my love for him, unlike my entire life, was real. All else was a lie, a fake, a fraud. He was my only light of hope, and now that he was gone, I was left in darkness.

Left to face the open maw of Death, there I stood. However, I had never been granted access to the afterlife. Somehow, I was still here, in the normal world, without an open entrance to see what it was like after one died. No, I was still here, in the world I knew ever since I was born.

Worlds apart, I never knew what the afterlife was like to normal people. Instead, I was still here. And almost hopeless, alone, until _he _came. _He_, my savior, _he_, the one who freed me from misery. And now, I was isolated again, without _him._

Without him, living here alone was useless. Why was I here, again, for I had no reason to watch over the living anymore. There had to be a reason for this, but only the most determined could reach their goals in life. What of me, a dead spirit? What was left for me to live for?

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_Spencer Wright, who had taken most of the impact, had been rushed to the nearest hospital. No one knew what to expect from him, as he was badly injured by the great blow. Chances of survival, according to the doctors, were slim. Luck wasn't on his side anymore, and Billy knew it. After standing near the edge of the accident's remains, he had managed to collect enough nerve and brave into the hospital to check on his beloved Spencer, who was not doing so well._

_Bruised, scraped, scratched, wounded and shocked. That was all one could see from Spencer's state. His arms were cut, his back graced with a jagged and fierce, almost artistic red line stretching from his right shoulder blade to his left hip. Bloodstains were covering his entire body, and another scar slashed one eye, seemingly deep enough to damage Spencer's left eyesight. _

_Patiently, Billy had stood by his side even though Spencer had no knowledge of his presence. He kept close with the ailing prodigy, and when no one was looking Billy would stroke his hair and send another prayer. Hopefully, one day, Spencer would awake. _

_Caught in a strange delirium, however, Spencer felt oddly compelled. Somehow, he was conscious, but he could not move nor could he say a word. It was almost like being encased in stone. He wanted to tell Billy that he was okay, but for some reason, Billy couldn't hear him. _

_Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours. Spencer struggled to regain control over his body. He had no understanding on why Billy was worrying over him. His last memory was of a car skidding into sight, along with the terrible sound of fractured bones. But now he didn't sense any form of physical pain. He was perfectly fine. Or was he? To explain his current situation, he was fully awake and aware of his surroundings now, but he had zero coordination over himself. _

_Another thing that he had noticed was the fact that each time someone touched him, his senses were beginning to reduce. And each time he tried to breathe, he detected lung failure, but he did not seem to require air anymore. He could no longer feel the beat of his heart against his chest, as if that organ had stopped working too. Something was happening, and he knew it. _

_Reality was beginning to show itself to him. Spencer came upon the hypothesis that, perhaps, he was experiencing something that his cousin had, too. He could be wrong, of course, but something told him that he was getting a grip on the truth as it exposed itself. _

_His soul was shunning out of his body._

_Unbelieving until now, Spencer tried to get himself to believe in his theory. What other explanation could there be? It was only logical this way, wasn't it? But if he were to be correct, did that mean he would turn out to be like Billy? Or was he going to leave his best friend to face this unforgiving world alone?_

_No, Spencer couldn't let that happen. He didn't want to imagine what it was like to truly die and leave the face of the earth to join someone in the afterlife. It wasn't like death was such a dreaded thing, but... something convinced Spencer that he wasn't going to heal. As if dying was a better option. Reprimanding himself for not realizing this, Spencer felt horror creep up and tingle around him. _

_Was this true? Was he going to leave his friends and family behind for real? Was he truly about to die? He couldn't! He still had years of life ahead of him! It would have been a waste if he left now! What of his sister, would she be able to get over grief? What of Rajeev and Shanilla? More importantly, his parents, what were they thinking of right now? _

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Did I ever mention how strange it felt without him? An empty space in me, one that opened up when he wasn't here by my side? Of course, I must have said something similar earlier. Without him I'm rambling on and on, uncontrollably crying for my loss.

I kept my eyes closed, but still, fresh tears welled up in them. They flowed freely, and they were liquid but real. They were actual tears, and I had wiped them with a hand before running away to find a quiet place to calm myself down.

Looking up, I watched the skies. Blue, they used to be such a rich blue, like the oceans and seas, like the chopping waves, blue had been such a pleasing, calming color. Now, blue was a sad and grievous, dark and ominous shade that spun even more destruction, wrecking away all hopes and dreams.

Remembering how I could still see my own reflection, I stared deep into a puddle that the rain had created. All I could see was a dead face staring back at me. The blue in my eyes used to be a lively sapphire flare, but now they were devoid of emotion. Nothing at all.

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